


Uncontrollable notes, from her snowy white throat

by s_t_c_s



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Blood, Established Relationship, F/M, Lingerie, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation, Oral Sex, POV Rio (Good Girls), Period Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Roleplay, Sex, Shower Sex, fairly fluffy??!, goose liver, very ugly linens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 13:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_t_c_s/pseuds/s_t_c_s
Summary: Beth and Rio, and period sex. (Rio's POV)





	Uncontrollable notes, from her snowy white throat

**Author's Note:**

> It's about period sex, so if that squicks you, this isn't the story for you! That said, there's not, like, detailed examinations of blood etc.
> 
> This is set in the future, where they've sorted their shit out somewhat (lorrrrrrrd knows how), and they're together.

Elizabeth’s got a real damn thing for all them funky euphemisms. He kinda wanted to laugh earlier when she told him she was expecting a visit from her monthly aunt, or however the hell she phrased it. But – well, she seemed wound so serious, and he don’t wanna upset her none. It’s tempting to point out that they’re both proper grown, parents too. He’s got a decent fucking understanding of basic anatomy, right. And Rio ain’t exactly one to get put off by a little blood.

It’s already a definite improvement though, is the thing. He remembers that time she came round to his, popped to the bathroom, only to emerge with reddened cheeks and awkward eyes before telling him something came up then leaving in a flurry. At least she’s talking to him these days, letting him in. They’ve not been, whatever, togethering-ing all that long, but he likes being there. With her.

And even if this seeing each other proper part’s newish, he’s known Elizabeth – pieces of her, anyway – longer. She’s fucking _weird_, man, always has been. Pulses rapid between a prim, proper dame and a wild thing caged too long. He ain’t quite worked out how much of that is to do with her idiot ex, or how she been raised, or that painful way she musta chafed, unchallenged, in a ghoulish realm of dull drudgery too long.

After finishing up semi-watching some insipid movie neither of them seem to remember putting on, she leads him to her bedroom. And he just, shit – it’s almost annoying how pleased he is. Rio enjoys his time better when he gets to be around her, it’s that simple. He’s already sleeping worse at the lack of her. That ain’t no sentimental bull neither, which is close to concerning. He don’t wanna do his job running nowhere close to empty, that kinda shit is unwise, primes fuck ups.

She’s smiling at him, nearing coy, as she settles to unbuttoning his shirt. Elizabeth keeps shimmying away from him when he tries to get his hands on her though, shaking her head and, well, she ain’t frowning, but she looks a piece stern. It’s a little strange, usually she’s happy to let his touch liquefy her, ain’t so shy about it these days neither. But sometimes she gets ideas in that pretty head, and he’s not about to push. So he busies himself emptying his pockets, dumping stuff on her night stand, turns to see her pleased lil face when he’s done.

She peels off his upper layers, till he’s topless, and he don’t miss that hungry-eyed thing she always does at the sight. It kinda makes him wanna laugh, but it also really, really doesn’t, as she maps the lay of his muscles, the span of his skin. And, god, it’s not like he don’t know he looks good, but there’s a part of him that doesn’t wanna let her within a mile of his boxing gym, in case she truly ain’t aware his physique’s not, like, totally unique. Car man somehow got her shelved away in this big old house, maybe she don’t get there’s a whole wide world out there. Rio can’t imagine someone _not_ wanting to touch her – all that soft skin, them tantalising curves, the silk of her hair. But there’s another, more rooted, side of him that knows this thing between the two of them is bigger than that, so.

He shucks his pants with a smirk when she starts shoving at them, kinda inept; a soft noise of annoyance flying from the recesses of her throat. When she’s got him all but unwrapped, she nudges him onto the bed. Elizabeth prods at him, till he’s almost flat on his back, his head propped on a particularly lurid selection of cushions.

She ain’t even really teasing him through the thin material of his underwear, and that’s _nice_. He’s half-hard already, the way she was pressed against him on the couch still fresh, mingling with that insistent undressing. Maybe one day he won’t get hit so heavy by how she looks at him. He used to catch glimpses back in the day, sure, but she don’t stop herself now, and it’s. Fuck, it’s exhilarating.

She seems real smug when she draws his underwear down and off, and that’s quite all right with him. She’s got her teeth pressed to her bottom lip when she grins up at him, lets them drag away easy though. Elizabeth’s mouth opens wide then, as her tongue peeks out wilful, before she lifts her palm to lick a couple goes. Okay, he might groan a teeny bit in anticipation, but it ain’t _loud_ at least.

She drags her moistened hand up and down his length, slow and gentle. Her mouth falls to the tip, first only her tongue as she licks around like he’s some typa sweet treat, then her lips crash down as she starts to suck. Before long her hand has moved away, placed on his thigh to steady her as she rises to sink, takes all of him in. And then, fuck, she’s just kinda corkscrewing down onto his dick, her throat fluttering around him as she hums encouragingly. She’s so _good_ at this; he’s not sure how long he can hold back.

He made some shitty, but, like, admittedly still funny crack about it once. How she musta really not wanted her piece of shit husband to fuck her, to get so skilled at that. She’d been so pissed at him for saying it she wouldn’t listen to him tryna make nice straight after. But then, weeks later, she tossed the exact same joke back at him, outta nowhere! He don’t understand her sometimes, but that’s better than fine. He always did delight in a puzzle.

“Fuck,” he groans out, when the hand not leaning on his leg tickles over his balls, a finger pressing smooth to his perineum.

Rio’s closer than he realised, and he can feel Elizabeth’s slight smirk. She’s got a coquettish streak, but really he ain’t much better whenever he’s got his mouth on her. She don’t stop when he’s gushing down her throat, swallows it all down, greedy, keeps diligently licking him clean.

He’s huffing tickled giggles before he insists, “C’mere.” She goes happily, snuggling into his arms.

His hands ruffle to find the hem of her giant sweater, he ain’t seen her in stuff like it much before. Elizabeth rolls her eyes in a fond way, before lifting up so he can drag it off her. _There,_ better. She’s got some stretchy kinda half-bra, half-crop top thing on underneath, it’s claspless, but he ain’t stupid, he knows how elastic works.

But she’s been approaching twitchy tonight, so Rio says, “Off,” rather than making that move himself.

She don’t seem to possess no qualms ‘bout obliging though, sighing in contentment once her tits bounce free. Them pleased noises keep coming when he’s mouthing soft at ‘em, licking her nipples into sharp crests. He’s going slow, ain’t necessarily got a particular terminus in mind as he slides kisses across her skin.

Elizabeth lets him peel her yoga pants off, though there’s a hinting turn to the look she gives him then, which he notes. When he’s thumbing her light, over her panties, she arcs into it gracefully. Some noises that ain’t tuts, but sound similar, emanate percussively from the depths of her, expelled along with her breath.

But when he tries to get beneath the cotton she shuts it down, wriggles away. Tells him, pretty hilariously, “I’m _messy_.”

That makes his mouth pull into a lazy grin. Cos she might keep this giant, kid-filled, house neat and tidy, but she can be hella sloppy elsewhere – with her emotions, or her criminal endeavours.

Rio backs off, palms up, before saying, “I just wanna make you feel good.”

“It’s _gross_.” Elizabeth’s pouting a bit now.

He ain’t gonna urge her unduly, obviously, so he just wraps his arms round her, and asks if she wants to go to sleep. When she answers in the affirmative, Rio turns the last lamp off.

She sighs appreciatively when his hands stroke over her, so he keeps it up, finding different patterns.

But, see, he knows her. Has catalogued maybe her full range of ‘no’s now – though they come out a little different depending on whether they’re talking lunch spots or work or something more intimate.

That weren’t a flat out fuck off, not like the one he got tryna get her to try the foie gras at one of his favourite restaurants. Elizabeth was whisper-yelling at him about cruelty, looking truly appalled, which struck him as mighty funny, all things considered. But it weren’t as if he could pretend he didn’t enjoy her like that, with them embers to her irises as he heard her furious refusals.

And it hadn’t been a c’mon, convince me neither. Those were always fun. He remembers the first few times he watched someone offer her a blunt. It was Demon, of all people, the original instance – poor guy had to come pick up the two of them after a convoluted series of mishaps. Elizabeth was clearly shaken still when Demon arrived. And, fair enough he didn’t clock it, dude hadn’t spent that much time with her.

But then, it was funny someone who knew her as tight as her kid sister couldn’t spot that tell. So the second or third time he saw Annie do it, Elizabeth turning down the offered blunt with a polite smile, Rio leant over and asked, “You sure, baby?”

Elizabeth shrugged like, oh go on then, and her sister’s eyes just about popped out her head.

Yeah, Elizabeth had sputtered round it a bit, and if it’d just been the two of them he probably woulda teased her royally. But he weren’t about to do his girl dirty like that, not in front of people, not when she was having fun and trying shit out. So he merely laced his fingers with hers, made some comment ‘bout _Jackie Brown_ that got her smiling, and her friend Ruby straight guffawing. He weren’t sure Ruby liked the idea of her best friend being with him before that evening in Elizabeth’s back yard.

Nah, tonight had been his favourite kind of veto from her – a _not this time_. He’s familiar with that one from the first instance he touched on the subject of them role playing, when she squirmed out the convo, clearly intrigued but reticent.

Weeks later, she invited him round, and he let himself in as instructed. Rio discovered her in bed, covers up to her chin, paperback open and glasses on. That had been a morsel strange, cos someone got her a Kindle for Christmas, and she’d been sanctimonious ‘bout making her way through them free classics. He tried to tell her _Moby Dick_ was boring as shit, but she kept fronting so hard, pushing on and refusing to admit she weren’t enjoying it none.

He had no trouble believing she’d been sneakily reading something else, but found it hard to fathom she wanted him to know it. When he tried to crow, she shushed him, which felt a bit off – but he figured she just wanted to finish the chapter or whatever.

But then Elizabeth pushed the covers away, told him, real forceful, “I’m the librarian,” as she revealed what she was wearing.

Her lacy blouse was barely buttoned, and that pencil skirt was _unreasonably_ tight, with a chunky slit up the side which showed what looked to be stockings and suspenders.

His mouth hung open when she added, “And you’re the… miscreant who doesn’t seem to care about his fines.”

“And I’m bein’ punished?” He hadn’t cared how eager he sounded, christ.

“I think we might see if we can find… other methods of payment.”

Rio was still, privately, pretty proud of the fact he hadn’t got a telling off for how he ripped that fucking skirt.

*

The next time, he does sweet talk her panties off, post discussing her conditions.

There’s colour high on her cheeks, but he relishes that determined way she thrusts through her embarrassment. Rio was muttering in her ear as she was jerking him off earlier, his hands flitting over her curves, revving her.

“Just gotta let me get my mouth on your clit, baby. No mess, no stress, yeah?”

She acquiesces, though she basically grumbles, “That’s only gonna make me want you inside me.”

His front teeth slip down his bottom lip as the top one drags itself upwards in a crooked smile. Rio stops just short of a wink.

“We can stop whenever you want, yeah?”

She nods.

“And even if you beg me to fuck you, I won’t. Okay?”

Elizabeth shoots him a dirty, possibly also slightly wounded, look. She seems less nervy now though.

He starts off just licking at her clit, before moving to sucking, hard. Rio rejects the usual impetus to drag the proceedings out, doesn’t want her getting freaked. Soon, her ass is up off the sheet, and her bent knees spread about as wide as possible, as she fucks up on into his face.

He ain’t sure if that tampon is giving her much to clamp down on. There’s a small part of him that’s tempted to just yank it out – specially when that string tickles his forehead – to thrust, if not his tongue, then at least a coupla fingers in her. But he can’t be sure if she really would relax into it, or throw him out, or punch him in the nose. Considering he’s pretty certain Elizabeth could best just about anyone in a brawl in the wrong kinda mood, it don’t sound a wise move.

So he keeps on going, and finally, nose scrunched, jaw grasped in a near-silent scream, she strikes her peak. He nuzzles at her as pleasure zings still, he’s attuned to her tells, as she tumbles back to clarity with pleasing lil whines. That way she pants has an addictive quality too.

When she’s mostly calmed down, he catches her mutterings ‘bout how he got her all wet and mussed up, before she marches off to her en suite. He really does try to hold back them noisy snorts.

Elizabeth falls asleep with a massive fucking smile on, and there’s no reason for him to cool down the one he mirrors back.

*

“How ‘bout I fuck you in the shower?” only works once he agrees to run her a bubble bath after.

It’s weird, cos she’s a feral kinda fussy over bath time, treats it like a god damn religious ritual or something. Doesn’t think he’s got the right ideas on temperature or nothing. But, whatever, he certainly don’t consider it a problem.

Once he’s got her under the spray, he don’t play around too much, but he does make a point of watching her face when he slides his fingers in.

Rio lets Elizabeth ooh a minute or two, her eyes shut, before nudging her about, till her hands are pressed to tile and her ass is pushed out perfect. The throaty noises she oozes when his cock’s all the way in are real rewarding, but not as good as the feel of being snug inside her.

They stopped using condoms pretty early in their relationship. She had that pinched look on, same as ever when she’s talking ‘bout her moron ex, while she told Rio how she got her tubes tied after Jane. And then they both got tested, though he considered it mostly a formality. He’d always been pretty careful, not counting the time Elizabeth dazzled him into that bathroom, and he lost all fucking savvy. Not that he was complaining, mind.

She moans so pretty for him when she comes, two of his soaked fingers at her clit. The way her walls wrench round his dick sets him following fast. He gathers her to him when they’re done, gets ‘em cleaned up with a wash cloth he knows ain’t a favourite of hers.

Once he’s run the bath, not rising to the bait of her criticisms, merely adjusting as directed, he asks if she wants him to join her. She declines, but in his exact favourite style, so he leaves her to it, anticipating that next time.

*

“Why don’t we just put a towel down?” earns him an expression that can only be described as aghast.

It ain’t as if Rio’s got a problem with their monthly watery fuck fests, far from it. But some of them bath products she goes in for seem a touch dubious to him, have a tendency to make him sneeze. And he _likes_ their bed. It’s miles better than her old one, that awful thing he endured for all them months, simply to be with her. And Elizabeth don’t exactly seem averse to period sex these days, so maybe a change of location ain’t outside the possible.

“_Which_ towel?” she asks, with narrowed eyes.

Rio shrugs. He don’t much mind, as long as it’s not any of his, or them rose covered Cath Kidston ones he got her after catching her eyeing and sighing over them in that frou-frou store Elizabeth dragged him to. They weren’t even that expensive, but she gasped then complained when he casually presented them to her.

And she _claimed_ he had to stop pulling that trick, but her going all silent and annoyed on the drive back didn’t impress him much, cos without fail she’d drag him to bed or a couch or, after them earrings, the fricking _floor_, and fuck him to oblivion. If he was supposed to learn a lesson from that typa behaviour, it weren’t one about _not_ repeating it that was clinging.

“We could get new ones?” he hazards. “A real ugly set? Something cheap?”

Elizabeth looks scandalised by the prospect, but more and more consideration clouds on in. Mighta been the lure of finding a good deal.

Cos a few hours later, they’re browsing in some terrible discount store. She threatened to cut him off from joint shopping trips, after the earring incident, but they need a new kitchen table still, and he knew she weren’t going to make that kinda decision without him.

They _almost_ settle on a bunch with a horrid clown print, but then a pinch of sense must claw its way back to them, and they decide that ain’t the kinda thing either of them want to look at during. Or, like, ever. Their giggling attracts some stares, but mostly the amused type. Old people and teens and whatnot, the kind who wanna smile at enamoured duos.

They end up going with some boring ass crimson ones Elizabeth finds, mostly cos they make her twinkle in a mischievous fashion he don’t have any interest in arguing with.

Rio’s got an arm round her waist, bags in his other hand, mouth pressed to her hair, as they walk to the car. And, yeah, there’s anticipation there, but he ain’t in a massive rush. She fucking floors it on the way home though, and he can’t even find it in him to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Blood Sugar Sex Magik by Red Hot Chili Peppers.


End file.
